


Long Lost and Losing Focus

by jprongs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Complete, Grimmauld Place, M/M, Mentor Remus Lupin, POV Remus Lupin, Sexual Content, Teacher Remus, first wizarding war, post—hogwarts, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-11 01:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5609377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jprongs/pseuds/jprongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus' POV from 31 October 1981 to just before OotP. Pretty damn canon. Enough angst that you're going to need multiple cups of tea and the really large bars of Galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Night the Tea Went Cold.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween, 1981 and a bit of the aftermath.

As if it was yesterday, he could remember clearly the exact moment everything changed. Remus had been carrying two mugs of tea into the living room, getting ready to settle down for the evening. Sirius should have been getting home soon - for the first time in ages, they’d be home together. The smile was wide and broke across his face like a beam from the heavens - or at least that’s how Remus felt.  


Just as he was pushing himself up on the couch properly, a silver ghost-like creature appeared before them. Within thirty seconds there were two mugs shattered across the floor, tea splashing back into the kitchen and all over grey carpet. It smelled like stale, milky tea in the flat for a week after that.  


Hands shaking, the patronus evaporated while Remus held back dry heaves, knocking the TV stand over in an attempt to steady himself. These moments always seemed to play back in slow motion, with diminished, underwater-like sound.  


He can vividly remember running through the door of the Potter’s hideout and the rise and fall of Sirius’ chest as he stood frozen before him, knees buckling.  


Remus jolted up, wrapping his arms around Sirius’ torso just in time to catch him. If he was screaming, Remus hadn’t even noticed, he was too busy remembering to breathe. The room spun around them and finally, without any strength in them left to stand, both men fell to their knees, Sirius’ head slamming against Remus’ rapidly pounding chest. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. The beautiful man in his arms finally bellowed a scream to rival Poseidon.  


And then the sobbing began.  


It was taking everything he had to stay perfectly still, but then Sirius tore away from him, suddenly looking hollow and broken. The ray of light that was normally an arrogant grin had been stolen from him and instead replaced with a gaunt determination. He knew that look. He had that look before he hexed Rodolphus Lestrange down the steps of the clock tower after he’d attempted to magically strangle Remus for docking house points. That face came on the day that they watched helplessly as Dorcas Meadows was hit with a bolt of green light just as they were seconds too late to back her up.  


The untidy black hair, shattered glasses, and beautiful face of James Potter stared coldly back at them, not blinking, not anything. Sirius dropped before him, turning him completely onto his back, shaking him, and screaming, but Remus couldn’t make out the barking words. Instead he stumbled up the stairs, hyperventilating as he came across a pale hand, following it to the long red curls and unmoving features of Lily.  


Green eyes glistened in the fear that she had died with, an undeserving death of a brilliant and kind person - the most kind person he had ever met. Sirius was behind him. He could feel his heavy hand tighten around Remus’ bony knuckles and pull him around into his chest. They both cowered from the truth in that embrace before hearing the familiar whimper and echo behind them.  


They separated and Sirius ran to the wooded crib, pulling out a toddler with tear stains from his eyes down to his pajamas. As soon as he was against Sirius’ chest, the child quieted. “I’ve got you, Harry. I’ve got you.”  


Remus joined him and kissed Harry’s forehead, “We should get him out of here - take him back to the flat.”  


Sirius nodded, relinquishing his godson to Remus, who cradled him in his arms. “Remus, gather a few things for him. I’ll start the bike up, we need to get him out of here.”  


He didn’t let go of Harry as he put a few things in a bag for him, sitting it by the bedroom door before kneeling down beside Lily and leaning his forehead to hers. She was so cold and shouldn’t be just left here like this. It wasn’t fair. The child had to be his first priority, over grief and all other emotions.  


As he walked back down the stairs, he could hear the roaring engine of Sirius’ motorbike pulling up outside. There was an exchange between him and the half giant, Rubeus Hagrid, outside, and he heard Sirius get angry, sounding desperate. Remus passed James, lifeless and pale, before peaking around the front door.  


Dumbledore’s orders. Dursley. Only family. We are his family, Remus thought, offended. He couldn’t possibly mean Lily’s sister, Petunia? The vile, horse-like woman she was and her walrus of a husband who’s mustache could have it’s own personality.  


Sirius came to his side, blocking him and the child from Hagrid, still arguing the point, that he should take him. “He’s my godson.” The child reached for Sirius and instinctively Sirius turned towards him and gripped his fingers in his own before looking solemn.  


There he stood, frozen, as Hagrid took away James and Lily’s son from his arms on Dumbledore’s orders. He had a difficult time believing that the old man knew best in this situation. He heard Sirius mumble to Hagrid to take the bike, that he wouldn’t need it. This snapped Remus back to reality, and he looked over at him confused.  


“Sirius, what’s going on?”  


Watching as Hagrid wobbled onto the bike, Harry in his arms, Remus couldn’t breathe. The sped off with a cloud of smoke behind them. His heart sank past his stomach and down to his ankles.  


“Remus, look at me. Look at me.” Sirius cupped a hand to each of his cheeks, pulling him close and looking at him in a way that terrified Remus to the bone. Any minute now he would be waking up from this nightmare. What he wouldn’t give for it to be him, to trade places with Lily or James. This wasn’t fair, they were the best people he knew. “Remus!”  


“I can’t, I - they’re gone...” They had suffered losses before, quite a bit of them, actually. None like this. There had not been a blow this harsh and deafening.  


Sirius pulled him back into his arms, kissing his cheek, forehead, nose, and finally catching his top lip. Remus met his mouth with desperation, clawing his fingers into cathartic grips on the back of his jacket.  


But then he was pulling away and running a hand over his cheek and down his neck, “I love you, Remus John Lupin. I’m so sorry.”  


Confused, he went for his hand, but Sirius was backing away from him, “What’s going on? Where are you going?”  


“Remember that, okay? I love you.”  


“Sirius, wait! I love -” And then he was gone. “- you too.”  


He must have sat with Lily and James for hours, sobbing, holding his knees to his chest after he carried Lily’s body down to lay beside James’, as they should be. 

He was going to wake up any minute now, he just knew it.

********* 

He woke smelling of whiskey and with a gone-out cigarette still clutched between his fingers. There was banging at the door, harsh, and volatile. How many days had it been? Remus had lost count, but didn’t care. He pushed himself up before hearing someone charm the door open and letting themselves in. 

Before him stood a man only slightly shorter than himself with a long white beard and dark blue robes. He didn’t have the kind eyes Remus had always known from Albus Dumbledore. 

“Come to take something else that I hold dear? Or are you just here to catch a glimpse of my devastation first hand?” He had anger seeping from every pore. Remus wanted to throw both fists at the man and cause him the same agony, “First my two best friends, who you promised were safe.” Remus stood, and pushed him, but the man didn’t move, “And then to send Harry to those awful excuses for family when he would have two loving uncles right here. We could protect him and raise him like they can’t. We will show him so much love-” 

“My dear Remus, I have no doubt that you have all of the love in the world for Harry Potter, but he is best with his blood. I-” 

Remus spat, trying to shove him again, but Dumbledore grabbed his wrists calmly. 

“I think we should sit.” He waved his hand and the two kitchen chairs slide behind them. Remus’ hit him repeatedly in the back of the knees until he gave in and sat down. He looked a state. Disheveled hair, robes shabbier than normal, and smelling of liquor and tobacco coming from every part of him. 

Never in Remus’ twenty one years would he ever have thought this is how his life would’ve ended. Sitting before his former headmaster in a tiny flat in London. 

“Have you heard from Sirius? He hasn’t been home.” 

“That’s what I’m here about.” 

This caught Remus’ attention and he looked up in terror, waiting for the words to come out that he would be burying another loved one. “Please… no.” 

“Sirius was seen by muggles to attack and murder your friend, Peter Pettigrew, in cold blood.” Dumbledore was trying to keep his voice as calm and unwavering as possible. 

Remus shook his head, “Impossible. Sirius has a temper, but Peter is family. He would never.” He stood, pulling away from the older man, “I don’t know where you’re getting your information, old man, but Sirius Black loves Peter. He’ll be home anytime now and you can ask him yourself if he did such a thing.” 

He took a deep breath, “Remus, Sirius isn’t coming home.” 

“Bollocks.” 

“Sirius isn’t coming home because he’s being taken to Azkaban.” 

Remus’ eyes were wide with rage and anger, “Why would you say-” Before he could even finish the sentence, Albus Dumbledore handed him the Daily Prophet. Right on the front page was a picture of Sirius, no longer gorgeous and everything he loved, but something scary and rabid, screaming silently at him. 

He stood, running to the kitchen sink and vomiting. It came out like battery acid, all alcohol. Remus gripped the sides of the sink and let out a scream similar to his monthly howl. He held it, ripping at the sink before collapsing backwards, hitting his head on the opposite end of the counter as he fell down.


	2. Given the Choice Between More Whiskey or an Angry McGonagall.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night Minerva McGonagall kicked him up the arse to get his life back together and the night he remembered why he actually hadn't drank himself to death. Also know as the night McGonagall was sent to 'ask' him to teach DADA and the Dementor attack on the Hogwarts Express.

A year ago, he had been joking about houses in the country once this war was over. He joked about when there would be a second Potter baby, or third, hell, a whole quidditch team of them. And, of course, he would love them all equally. A year ago he lived in a small flat in London because it was easy access for any Order business.

A year ago he woke up to big grey puppy eyes begging for pancakes in the morning and fell asleep to the ramblings of a madman, a madman who slept holding onto him because he still had nightmares even though he fought scarier forces than his own family. 

A year ago he had friends. Family. Purpose. 

A year ago he wanted to live. 

Today he wished he could drink himself to death. 

*** 

Last night’s transformation had been awful. Remus woke with new cuts and was sore everywhere. His skin felt painful and his bones weren’t even finished settling yet. He sat up, not wincing because of the agony anymore, instead greeting it like an old friend. Remus reached for his wand and without uttering a word, pressed it to each of the cuffs on his wrist before rubbing them once they were free. He stood, unsteady on his feet, and stepped into sweatpants. His own reflection startled him in the window as he walked upstairs. The harsh light of day forced him to shield his face with his hand, skirting around to the kitchen. He needed tea like he needed air. 

Once he had a mug in hand, he sat down on the raggedy reclining chair, submitting to watching fuzzy muggle TV until he could make sense of himself properly. The muggle morning news was on. How boring. He figured he’d give it a good listen, see which sorry old sod won a gardening competition and what war the muggles were fighting these days. 

What he wasn’t expecting was to hear a name he hadn’t heard anyone say in twelve years. 

“The public is advised to avoid Black at any cost as he is considered extremely dangerous. A hotline has been set up and you are urged to call it at once if you spot this man. Again, mass murderer, Sirius Black, has escaped from prison and there is currently a nationwide manhunt to bring him in.” 

Remus spit out his tea and sat in shock horror at the picture flashing across the television. Upon standing, he fell straight back down, passing out, and not waking until the following evening. 

*** 

“Remus Lupin! You useless lump of a man, get up!” That stern, hard, and too sharp for an easy wake up voice was all too familiar for the worst reasons. “Get up now.” 

Suddenly the curtains were drawn completely open and it was so bright. He cowered and blocked the sun with his palm, “You know you don’t have to do these regular check ins with me, Minerva. I’m a grown man.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest, glasses at the bridge of her nose, “Yes, and you’re surely acting like it. Now get up before I have to grab you by your ear as if you were in second year all over again!” She narrowed her eyes and reached for him, but he finally gave in and sat up. 

Remus growled and got to his feet, still sore and quite possibly still drunk. “I’m fine. There’s food in the cupboards and I haven’t had any sleeping draught lately.” 

“I’ve taken the liberty of packing your things, so put some decent robes on and make me a cuppa so we can be off, Professor.” She sat down on his couch and her eyes were like slits when dust puffed up from under her. 

Remus wandered into the kitchen, putting the kettle on and setting out two mugs. 

“If I see you go for that whiskey bottle, I will hex it straight out of your hands, so help me, Merlin.” 

Taking a deep breath, he filled the mugs, dumped in the tea bags and walked back over toward her. 

“Milk?” 

“Unless you like it clumpy, I’d recommend taking your tea black this morning.” 

“My word, you insolent fool, this is no way to live. You’re coming back with me and you will sort yourself out.” She scoffed and set her mug gingerly on the side table that looked like it was on it’s last leg. 

Remus didn’t even wait for it to cool before sipping at it, “I’m not coming to teach, for the umpteenth time. I don’t want to, and I won’t be any good at it.” 

“Not like this you won’t, but sober and with a few decent meals!” Minerva McGonagall took off her glasses and folded them in her lap. “Remus Lupin, I’m done watching this. Twelve years and I still feel the need to stop by to see if you’re alive. I bloody know no one else will since you’ve pushed them all away!” 

“I don’t really consider three of my best friends being murdered and the fourth being in prison for their murders counts as pushing people away,” he said coldly. 

“That is not what I meant and you know that.” 

“You’re only here because he’s out.” 

“I am here because this is the second year in a row I’ve been trying to get you into that castle where you can flourish and get well. Now drink your damn tea and let’s go.” 

“I can’t travel today, I’ll be sick. The full moon was a few days ago, so unless you want to travel with a hungover, post-transformation werewolf, I suggest leaving me here.” 

She stood abruptly, shoving her glasses back on, “Fine. The Hogwarts Express leaves in two days. If you’re not on it - and I will know - then I will be sending Severus to fetch you.” She snapped her fingers to regain his attention. “And I can assure you that he will not be as kind and gentle!” 

He sighed, letting the scalding tea wake him up a bit more. “I don’t see why you care so much.” 

“Because you’re like a bloody son to me, Remus Lupin, and I can’t bring myself to just let you waste away any longer. Especially now.” She opened the door to leave, but before stepping out, she said, “Be on that train, Remus. Please.” 

*** 

He was eleven and afraid that no one would accept him and they would realize they had made a mistake letting him come to school. 

He was twelve and finally he had three of the best friends he could ask for. 

He was thirteen and a werewolf, but that didn’t matter to them. 

He was fourteen and people were never going to look at him the same way they look at them. 

He was fifteen and he didn’t have to spend the full moon alone. 

He was sixteen and in love with his best friend. 

He was seventeen and there was a war, but he loved him back. 

He was twenty one and had lost everyone and everything. 

He was thirty three and returning more broken and lost than ever. 

*** 

His trunk was already packed, so that eliminated one of the more difficult parts. Remus looked around the flat, swallowing hard and wondering whether he was getting this job because of his intellect and experience dealing with the Dark Arts or simply pity. Either way, McGonagall wasn’t going to budge and he really didn’t have anything else. It would distract him from thinking about the escaped mass murderer, who might also be called the man he fell in love with as a boy and has never and will never recover from. 

So there he was, stood in front of the house. That horrible, broken place that he wished he could wipe out of existence, but instead there was this ugly ruin to stand there forever. Remus took a deep breath and walked through the hole in the door, memories playing out in front of him. Christmas morning when Lily and James told Remus and Sirius that they were having a baby. Lily’s exploding blueberry pie incident. James and Sirius wrestling and smashing the yellow lamp. Harry learning to crawl. James buying this ridiculous toy broom and being so proud that the toddler was interested in it. Harry tracing the scars on his arm out of innocent curiosity. Sirius holding him right there in the corner when they found out about Marlene McKinnon. 

Where was he now? Instead of anger, Remus felt guilt and sadness. He still wasn’t sure what he believed about any of it. Drinking didn’t make him forget and hunting creatures of the dark arts held no balance for him. Sometimes he nearly didn’t take the wolfsbane, so that he didn’t have to think during the full moon. But since the potion had been created, werewolves who didn’t take normally found themselves in a bit more trouble than they’d like. He walked over to the stairs, and knelt down, staying there for what seemed like a long time. 

Once he walked back through the door, he didn’t turn around. Instead, Remus promised himself that it would be the last time he ever entered that decrepit pit of despair. He continued walking, his long thin arms crossed across his chest in robes that were far too big for him. Honestly, he hadn’t even been thinking about where he was going when his feet took him to their headstone. Tears welled and he sat down with them, asking a million questions. Would Harry even know him? He wanted more than anything to turn it all back, to fix everything. The paint struck him through his chest and he put his head in his hands. 

The following day he found himself the first person to arrive at Platform 9 ¾. He put his trunk on the train and picked a carriage that looked like it could be quiet enough. Remus could hear the trolley rolling and dug into his pockets, he had enough for a bit of chocolate. It might make him feel a bit better, put him at ease. As it sat on the ledge next to him, he curled into the corner and pulled his robes over himself, falling asleep quite quickly. 

He could hear voices in his dazed sleep, but ignored them, and adjusted his shoulder blades to keep comfortable. He was dreaming of sending exploding chocolate frogs into the Slytherin prefects’ carriage and listening for the sounds of screaming and Sirius’ sly smile - he dreamed about it every night, but some nights it turned into a maniacal grin that was too big for his mouth, like a Cheshire cat. 

Everything grew cold and there was a scream. 

Remus bolted right to his feet, wand at the ready when he came face to face with a dementor. Eyes wide, he flicked his wand and sent a wispy wolf-like dog out of the end of his wand. It chased off the vile creature with ease, and Remus turned to see two bewildered teenagers staring back at him and another passed out. He stomach lurched when he realized who the unconscious boy was. It was like looking into his past. He helped prop the boy back into his seat and patted his cheek, while the other two panicked. 

He explained that he was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, that it was a dementor that was probably just checking for Sirius Black (the name did not roll off his tongue without a pang of heartache), and that as soon as Harry woke, he should eat the chocolate. He was going to speak to the conductor and check the other carriages. 

Just as he was exiting, Harry woke, and Remus pointed at the chocolate, “Eat. You’ll feel better.” 

Once into the next car, he braced himself against the wall. Harry was right there, sitting directly next to him for how long? He wanted to go back, hug him, tell him that he wasn’t alone and that he was protected. Remus wanted to tell him how he would die for him, how he was a spitting image of his father - but those eyes. He knew those eyes and all of the kindness they held. He loved Harry already, but now that love filled him, gave him purpose. 

He spoke with the conductor about the dementors on the train, and patrolled the train’s length once before returning to the carriage. James’ son was looking peaky and pale, obviously shaken up. “Eat the rest, go on.” Remus sat beside him and held back everything he wanted to do as this was not the time or the place for these things. The rest of the train ride he mostly listened to the three of them talk. Ron, the redheaded boy was a Weasley if he ever saw one - he’d met his father a few times. And Hermione seemed as bright as someone in his memory, and fiery like her too. But Harry, he spoke like James, had his mannerisms, everything. But he could already see Lily in him and it killed him to think that he should’ve been there all these years but was told he couldn’t be. He wasn’t enough. 

The castle was as brilliant as ever and while the students were all mucking about trying to get to the feast, Remus stopped in the Entrance Hall while his trunk carried itself to what would be his office. 

A pointed witch with horned rimmed glasses and a tall black hat gave him a warm smile and held out her arms, “Remus Lupin.” Minerva McGonagall pulled him into a tight hug, checking him all over. “You cleaned up well. I’m delighted that you came.” 

“You said you would send Severus. I’m not exactly ready for that conversation just yet.” Remus tried to give a nervous laugh. 

She tilted her head, looking at him over the rims of her glasses, “Shush now, you should get to the hall.” 

He nodded, “Just one thing. There were dementors on the train. One… attacked Harry Potter. Seemed to come right for him.” Remus sighed, taking in the grandness of it all. 

“Checking for Sirius no doubt. Is Harry alright?” 

“Yes, yes. He’ll be fine. He’s shaken up, but he happened to sit in my carriage, luckily. I had chocolate as well, so he’s just got to come to terms with the whole experience.” As her eyes were so wide, he reassured her. “I mentioned nothing of who I should be to him, or any details, really.” 

“Are you alright?” 

Remus shrugged and cupped his hands over one of hers, “That remains to be seen, but thank you for giving me the opportunity to get my life back in order. You’ve always fought for me when no one else would.” 

“There’s another who has as well, you know. But you haven’t spoken to him or returned his letters in twelve years.” She patted his shoulder, before turning to the first years. “It’s time, Remus. Walk into that Great Hall and put the past in the past.” 

And so he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and, actually, anyone that reads my work at all. I'll probably update every Friday as this entire fic is already finished. I'm just editing it chapter by chapter - should be about 7 chapters all in all. Feel free to review or ask me something either here or on my tumblr: jprongsx.


	3. Old Habits of an Alcoholic Werewolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a flashback to the Marauders at Hogwarts to lighten the mood just a bit, and then some of the inbetweens of PoA.

_“Remus, do you think it’s the glasses?” James had been in front of the mirror for over an hour now.  
_

_“What are you on about now?” He sighed, closing the book on his History of Magic homework._

_“Evans. Maybe she just doesn’t really like the glasses, you know? Could that be it?”_

_“You’re an arse. Shut up and fix your tie before it gets annoyed with you and uses itself as a noose.”_

_James traded the mirror for his snitch from underneath his pillow. “What’s gotten into you, Moony? Your PMT isn’t for another two weeks.” He tossed the snitch up, letting it’s wings spread out, before snatching it back again._

_“Very funny. You can see how amused I am.”_

_“Oh no, furry problems come early, Remus?” Sirius Black crash landed on his bed, right on top of him and began wiggling his eyebrows. “Or, Prongs, when is the last time our dear wolfboy locked the bathroom door?”_

_Peter peeked out from around his curtain, groaning, “Please don’t tell me we’re going to start discussing the wank schedule again.”_

_“Why, you afraid you’re going to lose your 6am slot, Wormtail?” James roared with laughter, launching the snitch straight for him. The golden ball stopped right before Peter’s face, turning him cross-eyed before zipping off into the corner of the room._

_“No, Peter is just afraid we’re all aware that his 6am ends at about 6:02am and he spends the rest of the time wondering what it would feel like to be James.” Remus deadpanned, trying to slide out from under Sirius' crushing weight._

_“Oi! Wormtail! You think of me while you-”_

_Sirius burst out into laughter and cut James off, “James, only_ you _think of yourself during that time.”_

_“Alright, then what do you think of, you thick-headed twat?” James sneered._

_“Very thick, you’re right.” Sirius winked at him, and wrapped his arms around Remus’ neck. It was if he was trying to lovingly suffocate him. “I think of Moony here and how angsty and good he'd be in bed.”_

_“Someone just kill me now.” Remus resorted to hiding his head in the pillow and pretending he didn't exist, but that didn't last long._

_The laughter echoed through the dormitory enough that by the end of it, no one actually remembered what the original conversation had been about._

*** 

Nearly knocking himself out of the bed, Remus woke from his sleep in a feverish sweat. He dreamed about those he lost often, but they had been more lucid ever since Sirius Black had escaped his prison cell. Over the years, people had asked him what happened between the four friends. He honestly didn’t know himself, and he hated the pointed questions. He couldn’t imagine Sirius betraying James and Lily - and Sirius wasn’t capable of murder. And why on Earth would he murder Peter? A few said that he should watch himself, that Black would be back for him, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Sirius was devastated that night. Alas, he felt he must believe it as Sirius hadn’t sought him out to tell him otherwise and prove his innocence. 

He didn’t like to talk about it much, with it being so painful. Even twelve years later, every time Harry sat before him in class, the first thing he saw were Lily’s eyes staring up at him. He had a knack for empathy just like her, but there was no denying that he was James’ son. To know that he was theirs, but that he never bore witness to Lily’s altruistic kindness and James’ sheer talent was devastating. To know him was worse than a bottle of skel-e-grow. Every part of him ached, but after the first few weeks of term, it was getting easier. 

He thought of how different things could have been, Harry spending weekends with him and Sirius, letting him get away with anything as long as he was happy. Peter teaching him to bake pies and how to play chess. He could see them all showing up for every one of Harry’s quidditch matches, cheering him on with signs and the most embarrassing, yet supportive, outfits. Lily would have loved Hermione and would have been an amazing mentor for her - both having so much in common. As he watched the class file out of his room, he noticed Harry hanging back after his friends left. Once the final student let the door close, Harry approached him. 

“Professor,” the boy said nervously, “Can I ask you a question?” 

Remus beamed, and it almost felt strange to smile again. It was muscles his cheeks rarely used anymore, “Anything, Harry. Absolutely anything.” Would he ask about his parents? His family? 

Crinkles formed on his nose and he pushed his glasses up, approaching his desk. “Well, it’s quidditch tomorrow. And, uh, I was just wondering - and only because if I tell Oliver Wood I have too much coursework, he may actually hex me to my broomstick - is it possible to turn in my essay on Monday?” 

A part of him sunk, deep, as he nodded, “Yes, I’m sure I can make an exception for you as you’re already ahead of the class in many things. Defensive magic seems to come naturally to you, Harry. I doubt you need the textbook side of it.” Flattery wasn’t going to get him anywhere as Harry didn’t even know how close they were to family. 

“Brilliant! Thanks, Professor!” He grinned, grabbing up his books, a bit of familiar parchment sticking out of his bag. 

Nodding to him, he was about to see him off when he thought of something. Just a small something that he could do without making any waves. “Oh, Harry! One moment, please?” 

“Sure, what is it?” 

“I believe I may have something of interest to you.” 

Harry’s brow raised as he followed Remus to his office, probably wondering what he could possibly mean. The boy was already aware that Remus had known his parents, so he decided he would give him something. Dumbledore definitely wouldn't approve, but what the old man didn't know couldn't hurt him, right? 

Smiling still, he reached up on the top shelf of his wine cabinet and pulled down a very dusty looking wooden frame. He brushed it off with the sleeve of his robe before looking down at it again. There he stood with his three best friends, Sirius smoking one of his first cigarettes out of the dormitory window, James fooling with his hair with a face like he wasn’t ready for the photo, Peter sitting on the end of James’ bed laughing at whatever stupid thing James said, and he was sat with Sirius on the ledge reading a book. 

“I thought this may intrigue you a bit, especially tonight. You’re about the same age in this photo.” He handed it to Harry, who’s eyes lit up as he traced the picture with his fingers. 

The wheels were definitely turning in Harry’s head as he watched the picture move. He started to laugh, and sat down in the chair, “Is this my dad?” 

After Remus nodded, Harry watched as picture-James ruffled his hair and held out a hand, protesting the photo and shoving Peter off of the bed. Sirius choked on cigarette smoke from behind and he simply looked up from his book to shake his head disapprovingly. 

“This is really amazing. Are you in this photo?” It pained him to think how he changed, so much that he was hardly recognizable in some ways. But he pointed to himself, now swatting away the cigarette smoke with the spine of his book as James went back to fixing his hair and Peter sat back onto the bed. And then the photo restarted again. “I didn’t realize you knew him so well.” 

Laughing, he sat on the edge of the desk, “I knew them both well. Two of the best people I think I will ever have known in my life. That was many scars ago though.” There was another frame just beside him, but he wasn’t ready for that story yet. Another day. “I could tell you all sorts of stories, but you should be off for dinner. Wouldn’t want to miss the Halloween feast just to hear the tales of my glory days. Go on then, find your friends.” 

And that’s when Harry stood and hugged him. Remus held in tears, hugging him back and holding him for a brief couple seconds while Harry thanked him. 

“Take the photo with you. I have many as your father wasn’t actually camera shy in the slightest. Maybe one day you can come by and look through them.” He could see it in the boy’s face that Harry wanted to stay now and see everything, hear every detail, but Remus couldn’t bare it. Not without a bottle of whiskey first, and McGonagall had made sure that he had nothing left but weak wine. 

*** 

His office door swung open hard, and if Remus didn’t know better, he would’ve thought that what entered was an over-sized bat. “Good evening, Severus. Care to join me for tea?” 

There was pure disgust in Severus Snape’s voice as he slammed two hands down onto the desk, “Oh, you aren’t waiting for a different guest to join you?” He looked nearly rabid. Something obviously had upset him. He tried to remember whether or not he had said anything recently to him that would’ve caused this type of reaction. Nope, nothing racked his mind. 

“No, Minerva and I typically have tea on Tuesdays together in her office.” He leaned back in his chair a bit, “We call it Tuesday Tea. Nothing original, but it’s a nice appointment to keep while we enjoy catching up on the Cannons latest match or what daft thing Sybil has come up with lately. Sweet woman, Sybil, but she’s got a few of something loose-” 

Severus cut him off, grabbing the front of his robes and pulling him to his feet, “You helped him get into this castle, you filthy, sick bastard! I know it!” 

Remus swatted at him and leaned away as if he were a leper, “Unhand me, Snape, before I hex you to fit into one of those glass jars I keep at the front of my classroom like trophies.” He ripped his robes out of his grasp and spat, “Now if you’d like to kindly inform me of what in the bloody hell you’re storming into my office and yanking me out of my chair for?” He sat back down and took a sip of his tea, which was now getting cold thanks to the interruption. 

“Someone attacked the Fat Lady’s portrait trying to enter the Gryffindor Common Room. She claims it was your-” He couldn’t finish his sentence because Remus had spat luke warm tea all over the front of his robes and the papers he had been grading. 

“What?!” He stood, pulling on his coat and grabbing his wand, “You mean to tell me Sirius Black is here? In this castle?” Terror fled through Remus’ eyes and it was obviously enough to settle Snape because he stepped back. 

Snape shook the front of his robes, looking less than amused, “That’s what the Fat Lady says. And Lupin, if I find that you’re _helping_ him… Not after…” 

“Don’t worry, Snape.” He had to catch himself not to say 'Snivellus'. “I’m getting too weak to get around the castle myself, let alone help someone in who cost me everything.” 

"You’re not the only one who lost everything that night, you fool.” 

“It couldn’t have been that painful, considering you didn’t even show up to her funeral. I buried them both. I sat with their bodies. I sorted their affairs. So don’t speak to me about loss when you were too _busy_ -” 

Someone cleared their throats from behind them, breaking the tension. 

Albus Dumbledore stood before them, putting a hand to Severus’ shoulder and then looking kindly a Remus. “I do apologize. I asked him not to come. I wanted to fetch you myself, really. I was wondering, Remus, if you would search some of the… more _unorthodox_ passages through the castle. All of the children will be in the Great Hall tonight until we know it’s safe.” 

He nodded, “Absolutely.” Remus reached into his top drawer and pulled out a small pocket bottle of whiskey that Rosemerta had given him just in case. It had been quite the task, sneaking that it, but it was proving well worth it in the end. Taking a deep breath, he downed the rest of it in one. “This should help me keep up.” 

“Thank you, Remus.” Dumbledore nodded to him, ushering the black winged vermin out of his office. “Come Severus, I need you to help me with the rest of the protection barriers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly forgot it was Friday. Also, this won't be the only flashback. Bring all of the comments and reviews that you fancy - they give me warm and fuzzy feelings. Also, feel free to wave at me on tumblr (jprongsx). If you are enjoying LL&LF, then you'll be delighted to know this: in the next few weeks I'll begin to start posting my monster of a Marauders sixth and seventh year fic. ;)


	4. There is Simply Not Enough Rum in Scotland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus gets the Marauders Map, more adorable Remus and McGonagall friendship, a flashback, Sirius' and Peter's return at the Shrieking Shack, and waking up afterward.

How many years had it been since he’d seen this? Gracious Godric, it was like traveling back in time. He unfolded the parchment, careful to caress every edge like it was going to crack and fall apart at any time. Remus took out his wand and with a grin that was becoming more regular on his worn face, whispered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

In front of him, the map came into being, the ink curling and unraveling all of the mysteries of Hogwarts. He traced the words up and down the halls, looking at everyone’s names, and then back to the front as handwriting appeared. 

_Moony, you gorgeous git! Get your nose out of those books and into my bed! - Padfoot_

He started laughing, like belly laughing, leaning back into his chair and falling into a euphoric daze of memories. In their final year, Sirius had started getting the map to proposition Remus on his behalf. It always said something outrageous. But then it faded and a new message came up. 

_Moony, the answers you’re looking for are in the Gryffindor Common Room._

Typically the map didn’t outwardly tell you where to look - unless it was one of the four of them. Remus realized what it was doing before he even flipped the parchment to follow its suggestion. He raised an eye and spun the map around to the common room, searching and finally spotting the name he not five minutes ago told Harry was utterly impossible. His heart began beating out of his chest and he closed the map. 

“Mischief managed!” 

Remus’ hands shook and he grabbed his wand, shoving the map unceremoniously into his pocket before bolting off toward Gryffindor Tower. 

*** 

“Thank you, Poppy. You are a goddess with this stuff.” He made her blush as he put the jar of ointment into his pocket. “I don’t know what is different, but whenever I use yours, the marks just heal faster.” 

“And Severus made your wolfsbane, right?” 

“Yes, I’m sure he’ll be bringing it by my office shortly. And then I’m going to have a cuppa and curl up in bed. Whatever he does to the wolfsbane just knocks me right out, so once I transform, I can just sleep it off.” Remus felt the corner of his lip curl up and left the hospital wing, heading towards his office to meet the person he least expected that he would entrust to brew him the very potion that made his life bearable. 

On the way back to his office, McGonagall stopped him, “Remus, dear, I’ll check in on your in the morning, yeah? Just in case you need help to the infirmary.” She smiled to him, “You’re looking so much better these days, even during the - you know. Teaching suits you well.” 

He nodded to her, quite pleased with himself. It was nice for her not to be scolding him like she had done for twenty two years. He’d grown very attached to her, especially after it all happened. There was more times than he could count that she probably saved Remus’ life. Whether it was finding him in some pub in York and dragging him home or keeping him from hurting himself. She always checked in before the full moon and after - or if he didn’t return one of her letters. He would forever be in her debt because when it came down to it, he hadn’t had anyone else left. 

“G’night, Minerva.” 

He figured he’d make the short cut through the portrait hole around the corner as he could get back to his office a bit quicker and avoid any Sybil Trelawney telling him he was in grave danger again. Remus knew she meant well, but the woman made his skin feel like it was crawling with flobberworms. Truthfully, he had never taken a liking to Divination or anything associated with it. He shuddered at the thought before mumbling a quick word with the portrait and slipping into the passageway. 

Just for a laugh , he took a quick look at the map, just to see what Harry was getting into. He proved he was his father’s son by constantly sneaking off - that along with the sass, the quick quips, and definitely the hair. And from being beneath the cloak so often growing up, he could always sense when Harry was around but unseen. It would make the corner of his mouth curve into a sly smile. And occasionally he caught a heel or a wand poking out and it made Remus remember the reasons that he’d always held on. 

Currently it looked as though Harry was with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, as usual, down by Hagrid’s hut. He had a small pang in his chest, remembering that Hagrid’s hippogriff had been sentenced to death. Remus had asked, but Hagird had told him there was nothing Remus could do. He hated seeing creatures harmed just for being… creatures. And Buckbeak was actually quite sweet once he warmed up to you. 

He reached his office and set the map down on his desk, glancing at it before slipping out of his shoes. 

But then another name popped up a little ways away from them. 

_Peter Pettigrew._

Remus stopped dead in his tracks. He had tore through the castle high and low for him, thinking, hoping - he didn’t even know what, but he figured maybe that it was just a fluke. He never saw a rat or his blonde, loving, friend no matter how long he had searched that night. But he saw it now. It was right there. 

And then at the sight of the name that was floating over the map towards Harry and Peter made him throw up on the feet of a suit of armor that immediately shouted at him, “I beg your pardon!” 

“Sorry, mate.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and darted off in that direction, shoving the map into his pockets again. He didn’t need it to know where they were going. It was one of the many, many times that Remus Lupin wished he was an animagus rather than a useless, ruddy werewolf. 

Completely out of breath, he arrived at the whomping willow, swishing his wand toward it to freeze the violent tree at the knot. He easily slid right into the trunk as if it hadn’t been fifteen years since he’d done so. The tunnel was so much smaller than he remembered, but he got there, the creaky boards of the Shrieking Shack echoing and he could hear yelling. Merlin, he could hear Sirius. 

His entire chest seized up, but he climbed the stairs. Twelve years of pining, drinking, crying, regret, grief, guilt, resentment, and longing was flooded his eyes with the promise of tears at some point, but he choked them back. That’s when he heard Hermione screaming about Sirius Black and he stormed through the door to find Harry pointing a wand at Sirius while he was lying on the ground with a rather ugly looking ginger cat. 

“Expelliarmus!” He shouted, catching three wands in his left hand. He looked down at what had become of beautiful, carefree, and confident Sirius Black and swallowed hard. “Where is he Sirius?” 

When Sirius finger pointed toward Ron, he gave a puzzled look, working it out himself, mumbling to Sirius as he was working it out. Part of him was relieved that he had not been barking mad to have trusted someone so wholly and believed in them with so much of himself who was innocent after all. But the other half of him just wanted to first throw up again, and then grab Sirius into his arms, embracing him in something that would never make up for twelve years lost, but would be a good start. 

Harry interrupted his train of thought and broke his back and forth gaze from Ron’s bulging jacket pocket to Sirius’ sunken face. “Professor, what’s going on?” 

He ignored Harry, and went with his gut instinct, grabbing Sirius’ hand and pulling him to his feet before throwing his arms around what was left of the boy who had always loved him back. “Sirius.” And he felt skeletal arms close around him, relief settling only for a second beneath stretched skin over bones. 

*** 

_The pain was blinding, but he could feel that familiar hand closed around his, so it wasn’t so bad. Remus could hear whispering and he knew the unpleasant sensation of his skin stitching itself back together. Still, like a good post-transformation werewolf, he lay still so that Sirius could heal him up._

_He wondered whether or not he’d already been taken to their bed yet, or if they were still in the cellar. Even the comfiest of beds right now wouldn’t feel as such with his bones still setting back into place. But the presence of a certain too-good-looking-for-his-own-good man always made him feel safe. Even after the worst transformations or the rough times where they weren’t getting on well before the full moon._

_Remus frowned through pain his his jaw - had he dislocated it? - and thought about the fighting lately. Sirius kept questioning him or where the Order was sending him. Dumbledore had made it so he literally couldn’t tell even on the threat and action of torture. He doubted that either of them would ever forgive their former headmaster for the forced silence about it as it had taken so much from them._

_But then, other things came rushing back and he opened his eyes._

_The lips that were moving rapidly weren’t Sirius Black’s. Instead it was a tired looking witch with her dark brown hair pulled into a bun and circles under her eyes that said she’d been waiting up all night._

_“Professor?”_

_“You’ve been out of Hogwarts a fair few years now, so I think it appropriate you call me Minerva and I call you Remus, don’t you?”_

_“But, what are you-”_

_“Just relax and let me finish healing up these wounds.”_

_Remus tried to sit, but upon pushing himself up on his elbows merely found himself to cry out in pain._

_“I did tell you to relax. Please, Remus, just lie down. I’m not as skilled as Poppy, but I’m doing my best.”_

_And then it all came flooding back. James and Lily were dead. Peter was dead. Sirius - Sirius was in Azkaban. He was alone and even Harry was taken away from him because he wasn’t fit to care for him with his condition. He would later wonder if it was the lycanthropy or the alcoholism._

_Without any restraint, Remus closed his eyes and stopped holding back the tears. He sobbed. Loudly, regretfully, and ultimately embarrassingly for a twenty-two year old man. He sobbed into the arms of Minerva McGonagall and she told him that he wasn’t alone. He didn’t believe her._

*** 

Everything was sore. Everything hurt as the bright morning sun woke him from a bed in the hospital wing. Everything was so blurry, feeling like he was underwater. 

“Remus! No, try not to move!” McGonagall was at his bedside, and stood, turning towards the door, “Poppy! He’s waking up!” 

There was a mess of white-blonde hair and someone whispering, “Drink this, Remus, c’mon. There you go. Sleep.” 

The next time he woke up it was Dumbledore at his bedside. 

“What’s going on…?” He was so drowsy and his body still ached like bones trying to push themselves back into place from angles they should never go into. 

“Drooble?” When Remus declined, the headmaster ate one himself before smiling at him. “It seems you neglected to take your potion a few nights ago.” 

He sat up straight, and then wailed in pain, but kept steady. “Is Harry alright? Is he safe?” He gripped the front of Dumbledore’s robes, shaking him. “Are they safe? Is Sirius alive?” 

Dumbledore gingerly gripped his wrists and nodded, “Both are safe and sound. Our young Mr. Potter and Miss Granger managed to not only save Sirius, but Buckbeak as well. And Miss Granger tricked your wolf form into running in the opposite direction of people, saving you from harming anyone.” 

Remus eased up some, panting, but laying back down. “I will forever be grateful.” The school healer approached his side and poured something else into his mouth, begging him to drink it. He obliged. 

The next morning he awoke on his own, in his own bed in his office and sent his resignation right away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this update is a few days late thanks to preparing and dealing with 29" of snow. My apologies! In other news, the next chapter is quite long and we get some Remus/Sirius. Reviews and comments are absolutely welcome and you can even have some of my ridiculous snow if you leave them! :P


	5. This Calls For Even More Scotch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius shows up at Remus' flat absolutely wrecked. Padfoot chases pigeons. McGonagall and Dumbledore show up for tea.

Months he had been searching, leaving cryptic messages in various places. At long last, he found himself stood in the last place he ever thought he would need to look for Sirius. Remus pressed a hand on the outside of his own flat, biting his lip. He shouldn’t be so nervous to walk into his own home, but he knew what was waiting for him on the other side of this door, just he wasn’t exactly sure what that something was.

It was dark, dank, and musty. The house smelled like something you would expect the inside of a cave would and that was only because he had spent so little time at it in the last two years. He walked slowly, wand out, waiting for anything unexpected. 

“Sirius?” He called for him, but didn’t get a response. Slowly he crept up the stairs, wand out in front of him for light. He peeked into each room, and then finally noticed the bedroom door that was just a tad adjar. Remus slipped his right half into the room to find a heap of black fur curled up next to an overturned box of pictures on the rug. 

Remus knelt down, breathing heavily in relief, setting his wand on the floor and very gently brushed his fingers behind the dog’s tall ears. “Sirius…” He scratched him under the chin, and it must’ve startled him because he jumped up, hair standing on end, and immediately backed himself into the corner. “Sirius, it’s me. It’s Remus.”

The dog turned its head, looking for the exits. “Hey, I know you’re scared. I know. But it’s me. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s been close to thirteen years, but I’m here.” Cautiously the dog relaxed a bit before turning into a frail, tiny shell of what used to be the most magnificent human being he’d ever known. 

Sirius dropped to his knees, still in his striped Azkaban uniform, and his eyes began to well with tears. “...Remus.”

As soon as he saw him begin to collapse, Remus caught him and brought him into his arms, holding him there and letting him sob for what seemed like hours. They didn’t even speak. He just brushed his fingers through the knots in Sirius’ hair and stroked his back, letting him choose when he needed to pull away.

Finally he took a deep breath and spoke again, looking up at him with hollow grey eyes. “I’m so sorry, Remus.”

He nodded and pulled him closer, “Shh, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” 

After a little while longer he was able to get him up and get the clothing from the prison off of him, running him a hot bath and then finally helping him into it. They didn’t speak much as Sirius sat still, hunched over in the water while Remus cleaned him up. Getting all of the dirt away seemed to give him ten years back. 

Once he got him into some clothes - Remus had to give him some of his own, and even they were too big - he handed him that cup of tea he never received. “I’m going to go and get a few things, okay? Some food and a couple other bits. I promise I will be straight back. Try and sleep?” When he got a nod, he tucked him into the bed - Remus’ bed, which was small and he hoped not too uncomfortable for him. 

About an hour later Remus returned with a rucksack and a plethora of other things. But as he set the bags down, he could hear screaming coming from the bedroom. Remus ran up the stairs and burst through the door to find Sirius tossing and turning, asleep, but unable to break free of whatever nightmare had him. Lucky he has silencing charms on the flat out of habit for full moon weeks, otherwise he might have some perturbed neighbors.

Remus sat down next to him, touching his shoulder and then giving him a soft nudge. “Sirius, it’s okay. You’re safe. Sirius!”

Sirius woke and immediately threw his hands around Remus’ neck. It was hard enough to leave bruises, but he eventually detached him and calmed him down. There was a lot more tears before Remus let him go again. It pained him to see Sirius, once so proud, to shrink so small and broken. 

That night he stayed by his side through everything, not sleeping. He held him tighter when he would struggle, wipe his tears when he woke up, and calm him down when he felt like Remus was a threat. He was pretty sure he had a very purple neck, a broken nose, and various other cuts, scratches and bruises. It wasn’t his fault, though, and Remus was quite use to violent imperfections on his skin. Now that Sirius wasn’t alive out of sheer determination, he was deteriorating. 

Finally on the third night, he fell asleep with arms around him.

 

***

 

_ The sun was too bright. He squinted, moving Sirius’ as-good-as-dead arm off of him for just a minute to reach up and shut the curtains. “Much better.” Then he rolled to face him, cupping his sleeping chin in his hand and planting a kiss on his nose. _

_ As he snuggled his way back into Sirius’ chest, Sirius grumbled slightly, “Make me pancakes.” Every morning should begin this way. _

 

***

 

Remus awoke to screaming, but when he reached across the bed, Sirius wasn’t there. He jumped up pulling his jumper tighter around himself. “Sirius?! Where are you?” He ran room to room, looking for him. Finally he found him downstairs, and  _ oh, for the sake of Merlin’s left nut _ , he had torn the entire house apart again. 

Sirius was in one of the kitchen cupboards, hiding, when Remus found him. “I saw a rat.” That was all he could get out of him. 

There was another bath involved, and this time with a bit of a haircut and a shave to clean him up. As Sirius stared at himself in the mirror, Remus pressed his face into the reflection as well, “See! Much better, yeah?” 

Sirius turned into him, hugging him tightly, speaking for the first time in a few days again, “Thank you.” They had been holed up in this place for a little over a month now. Some days were better than others, but at least he was here. That was the point.

It was the end of Christmas holiday for Harry, and though he desperately wanted to write to tell him everything, he couldn’t risk it. Instead he had slipped out and tipped off McGonagall to their whereabouts and was expecting a visit from her and Dumbledore at any time. He really hoped McGonagall showed up first and alone. She was good at making men sort themselves out. Remus could barely take care of himself, how was he supposed to care for Sirius when half the time he was a mute invalid? Love. That’s how.

“Today, I want to go outside.”

“As Padfoot?”

“Yes. Fresh air may do me some good.”

Normally he would have made a comment about leashes and Sirius would have turned it into an innuendo. Instead, he rolled up the sleeves on his sweater, and walked towards the door. Halfway down the stairs he could hear Sirius go from walking on two feet to four paws and he smiled. The sun was horribly bright, and both werewolf and dog turned their heads while their pupils dilated. 

The walked down the street, Sirius doing a couple figure eights through Remus’ legs and nearly knocking him over trying to avoid people getting to close or children reaching out to pet him. One time in particular a car had honked its horn at some teenagers on bicycles and Sirius turned and darted down the next alley, cowering and panting behind a few rubbish bins.

“It’s times like this where I feel like I have an actual dog.” Remus shook his head, going behind him, a hand behind each shoulder joint and drug him back out onto the street. “The alley behind a curry house isn’t fresh air. Come on..”

Sirius had dug his back feet in the whole way to the sidewalk, whimpering. Finally when Remus started to walk ahead, he caught up, hovering so close that his side was brushing Remus’ trousers with each step.

They finally reached the park - which should have been a ten minute walk - nearly a half hour later. He was being patient because he knew that Sirius wasn’t used to the normal world anymore, but some things made him want to roll his eyes and other things he occasionally felt himself holding back from laughing hysterically.

“Look, Padfoot, there’s some pigeons. Don’t they look like they’d be fun to chase?”

His tail came out from between his legs a bit and he glanced at Remus before stalking toward them, one paw after another. Once he got close enough, he seemed to have relaxed, getting back to his normal puppy-like disposition. Sirius took a hefty leap and jumped right into the middle of the pigeons, hopping around like mad and barking and nipping at them as they tried to fly away. You could see the smile wrapping around his snout.

Fondly remembering that James had always said Sirius should consider making the change permanent, he let the large black dog run all around the park, chasing birds, digging large holes, knocking into the recycling bins, and playing with a rather large stick that he’d ripped off of the tree in at the back of the park.

Remus sat on the bench, beaming with pride as Sirius essentially acted like a knob because he could when he was in his dog form. He barked at a few people walking by, startling them, and then went back to general mayhem. It was beginning to get dark and he noticed that on the stone ledge about twenty yards away was a rather regal looking tabby cat with distinct markings right over her eyes. The feline was also watching the black dog run amuck. 

He looked on in curiosity as the tabby cat jumped down, and wandered over towards the shaggy black dog. Sirius hadn’t even noticed his former head of house yet until he turned around, the large stick hanging at least two feet off of either side of his mouth. He sat back on his hinds, frozen in shock while the cat rubbed against his front legs. Then she didn’t just walk, she was actually strutting towards Remus and Sirius followed.

“Home then, I presume?”

They got back to the flat and found the Headmaster eating an ice lolly, staring down at the garden a few doors down. Remus had long since attempted to understand Dumbledore’s appreciation for the lighthearted things and led the now group of them into Sirius’ home. But as McGonagall and Dumbledore entered as cat and quirky old man, Sirius sat outside the door, looking a bit frightened.

“C’mon, Padfoot,” Remus pleaded. “In you go.”

The black dog whined and still refused to move. 

Remus walked over to him, scooping him up and shaking his head, “Ruddy mutt.” As he brought him into the foyer, Sirius’ ears were back and his tail was between his legs.

“Shall we give him a moment?” Dumbledore prompted, “Just point me towards the kettle and I’ll make a start on some tea for us.”

Remus smiled halfheartedly, “Just beside the stove to the right - yes, behind the biscuit jar. There should be mugs in the third cupboard from the left.”

Once the two of them had walked into the kitchen, he set Sirius down. As to be expected, he darted right through the hall and into the bedroom. Remus followed after him and then pushed open the door to find human Sirius sat on the edge of the bed. 

“What are they doing  _ here _ , Remus?” Sirius begged, obviously torn between nerves and anger.

He joined him, making a point not to touch him as when he did that tended to set him off and he would shut himself in with Buckbeak and refuse to let Remus in for hours. The worst was when he’d tried to catch his arm so he couldn’t walk away. Two days he didn’t come out. “Remember, I told you yesterday that McGonagall and Dumbledore would be stopping by? They’re coming to let us know what’s been going on outside of this house. They’re not here to take you away, I promise. They know the truth. They believe you.”

His hands shook a bit, “I don’t remember. Things are still…”

“I understand.” Remus took a deep breath and stood. “I’m going to go down and chat with them. If you aren’t ready yet, then stay up here. No one is going to blame you.  _ Hey _ , you don’t have to be so jumpy. Come down if you’d like. I’ll have a cuppa waiting for you if you’d like.”

“Thanks, mate.”

He nodded and went back downstairs. Dumbledore had gone above and beyond, pulling out a whole spread from Merlin knew where, because there was only the bare basics as far as food.

“I took the liberty of having the house elves prepare us some tea. If I remember correctly, Sirius is very fond of lamb and mint sauce.” The Headmaster smiled softly, beckoning Remus to sit down.

He sat next to McGonagall and placed his hand over hers, “Thank you for coming.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed, “Nonsense. Now, how are you holding up? I had Severus prepare you the wolfsbane potion for next week.”

He shrugged. This was a bit much. For weeks he hadn’t really seen anyone but Sirius and today he had company and a prepared meal. “As good as we can be. He’s coming around. I think once Peter got away and he fled Hogwarts he started to regress without some sort of purpose driving him. He’s a bit more lucid as a dog though, like he can separate his thoughts easier.”

“It isn’t as complicated to think like that. Easier to compartmentalize and focus on one thing at a time.” McGonagall agreed.

They spoke about what was going on in the wizarding world and the ministry, discussed quidditch, and finally the next topic came up.

“How’s Harry?” Remus asked, hoping that either of them had spoken to him.

At the mention of Harry, Remus could tell Sirius had changed back into Padfoot and they could hear the stairs creak with less than graceful paws. This had peaked his interest enough that he slowly entered the kitchen, staying to the sides of the room.

“You don’t have to hide. They’re helping us. Would you like to know how Harry has been?” Remus offered and pulled out the chair between himself and Dumbledore. 

“Sirius Black,” McGonagall spoke firmly and pointedly, “Come here and sit in this chair. You’re back in our world and part of that is eating at the dinner table like civilized wizarding folk.”

Dumbledore tucked a napkin into his robes, beginning to carve up the lamb to put onto plates.

“If I have to threaten you with polishing and ironing doilies, I will. Now sit.”

Suddenly Sirius was stood before them in an oversized sweater of Remus’ and trousers that Remus had to magically shrink in order to keep against his bony hips. “Headmaster, Professor.” He nodded to them both, sliding into the table with them, eyes about watering at the sight of the roast in front of him. “There’s yorkshire puddings?”

“And mint sauce, brown gravy, sprouts, and pretty much everything that the elves remembered you liked.” Dumbledore placed the first couple slices onto the plate in front of him. “They remembered you very well. They also remembered that you had a taste for firewhiskey and sent a bottle of that. That was the part of the story I didn’t need to hear.” He chuckled to himself while serving everyone else.

Remus hadn’t realized that he’d been smiling so much, only when there was a hint of a smile on Sirius’ face did he realize as his cheeks began to ache. “Silverware, Sirius. You don’t need to eat with your fingers.”

He looked up, hair falling into his eyes, and wiped his hands on his napkin before picking up his fork in one hand and smothering his entire place in a mixture of mint sauce and gravy with the other.

Content with dinner beginning, Dumbledore cleared his throat, “Anyway, Harry is doing as well as can be expected with the circumstances. He seems to have a knack for competition.”

Remus laughed, “Yeah, I’ll say. Him being James’ boy and all. I wish we could be there. Minerva, are you at least as decked out for Harry in the tournament as you were at the World Cup?”

She elbowed him, “I should have never shown you those pictures.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow and Remus gave him a look to let him know that he’d explain later. “So, is… is he safe through it all? Are you sure you don’t need-”

“We’ve taken some additional precautions as you can expect. And with so much ministry presence-” Dumbledore continued even though both Remus and Sirius had snorted into their potatoes, “I don’t think it’s exactly safe for you to be around.”

“You think? Should I write to him, then? Would he like that? Is that safe?”

Minerva rolled her eyes, “It’s all he spoke about for the last bit of term. To know he still had someone - two people - out there that cared for him as much as the two of you do-”

This broke Sirius’ consistency of nearly shoveling food into his mouth, “Well, he could’ve known his entire-”

“Not now, Sirius.” Remus put a hand on his knee. He had let his mind wander to that thought for thirteen years, what it would’ve been like to have raised Harry themselves. “We’ve talked about this, okay?”

He glared towards Dumbledore, picking his fork back up. It was the last time Sirius looked at Dumbledore during their visit. Neither Remus nor Sirius had forgiven Albus Dumbledore for sending Harry to be with Lily’s awful sister, but they couldn’t argue the magic that protected him there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you all for reading and comments/reviews are phenomenal.


	6. A Bottle Later and Things Aren't Any Clearer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Remus wakes up to find Sirius gone, he fears the worst. McGonagall talks some sense into him yet again and he returns home to a relatively normal Sirius Black.

It was a Thursday morning when Remus awoke to an empty bed. He thought nothing of it at first, sometimes Sirius wanted to be alone. Years of solitude would do that to a person. He walked upstairs to the room Buckbeak stayed in, peaking in to find the large beast asleep on it’s back, snoring. With a chuckle, Remus wandered around downstairs. 

“Sirius?” Occasionally he’d find him locked away somewhere, but recently he’d been getting better. He wrote to Harry often, bewitching owls in all sorts of ways to look exotic or foreign. Just that he was using magic again regularly was a huge feat for him. 

There was an empty mug in the kitchen, but still no Sirius. Remus’ mind went back to 1981 when this was a regular occurrence in the flat they shared. He felt distrusted by the person who meant the most to him. It was something that Remus expected that they would one day find themselves in conversation about again. He was never aware of the reasons behind his sudden distrust, but he suspected it was something to do with Peter. And how Sirius could  _ ever _ think that of him - his chest hurt at the thought of it.

A few hours Remus waited and no sign of Sirius. He’d searched the neighborhood and everything. Mild panic set in, but he tried to keep himself calm. This is the longest he’d been apart from Sirius in a long time and without the need to take care of him, he was left to his own thoughts.

Finding himself looking through old pictures, he began to feel more and more uncomfortable in the house, sharing the bed. He started to feel sick. Remus dropped the photos and ran down the stairs, not even bothering to grab his coat. Once out the door, he apparated and didn’t really think much about where he was going. Looking through his surroundings, he found himself in Hogsmeade. He stood in front of the Hog’s Head, and swallowed, pushing his way in.

Aberforth welcomed him as an old friend. “Remus, ol’ chap! It’s been an age. Sit down, my friend!” 

He obliged, sitting and the barkeep had his pint on the table before he could even ask. When he was nearly finished, he looked over at him, “Firewhiskey. Make it a double, straight. Or just leave the bottle with me. I’m sure I’ll finish it.”

The man with long silvery grey hair raised an eyebrow, “Rough, day?”

“Rough couple of months.”

Aberforth winked, pouring more whiskey into his tumbler. “I bet with your old mate being escaped and all that.”

“What?” Remus has almost forgotten that bit, “Yeah, exactly. Sorry, I’m really distracted at the moment.”

After the rest of the bottle, Aberforth finally cut him off. “Remus, it’s three o’clock in the afternoon and  you’re near falling off your stool. I can’t in a sound mind give you anymore and I daresay Rosmerta will serve you in your state.” He clapped him on the back.

He went to respond, but what came out was mostly garbled grunting. He stumbled off of the stool and out into the chill of the Hogsmeade air. Maybe the whiskey hadn’t been his best idea. But he was having all of these wild fears, realizations, and he didn’t know what to do. Sirius was beginning to care for himself - enough that he’d gone out on his own. So, he didn’t need him anymore. Quite possibly, he didn’t want him around. 

Remus found himself staring at the Shrieking Shack, smiling and trying to keep his eyes open. He gripped his fingers through the fence, stumbling when he was trying to just stand still, puffing a cigarette with the other. It was just one more day that he would’ve given anything to trade places with James or Lily. They belonged here, not him. None of this would have happened if they could’ve switched. Or if he would’ve done  _ something _ . If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his lycanthropy being useful, he could’ve seen that Sirius didn’t trust him, that he wasn’t coming home. He would’ve realized that Peter wasn’t… Peter again. 

“Remus Lupin!” 

The shrill call broke his focus, but he continued on with his cigarette, exhaling through his nose and gritting his teeth.

“For Merlin’s ruddy sake, you are going to catch a cold while you’re drinking yourself to death.” McGonagall snapped at him, flicking her wand out to cast a warming charm on him. “What are you doing here? Why are you not in Wales?”

Remus laughed nervously, flicking the end of the cigarette over the fence. “I woke up and he was gone.”

She cocked a brow, forcing her glasses down to the tip of her nose. “What do you mean  _ gone _ ?” She pulled her robes tighter across herself, obviously out for a Hogsmeade weekend.

“I woke up and he was just gone. Hours. I don’t know where he took off to, but it’s like it used to be. I don’t even know what to say to him most of the time, Minerva!” Tears began to swell in his eyes, “He’s regaining himself and pulling away from me. Just like it was before… before…” He closed his eyes, not wanting to relive it again today.

She pulled him into a hug. There was a time that he was terrified of Minerva McGonagall. Over the years, though, she proved to him from an that she wasn’t the bitter, scary woman she seemed to be. Anytime he struggled with his condition, he could go to her and vent, scream, break things, cry, or not say anything at all. She was always patient and knew what to say. And while he may not have gotten as harsh punishments from her on the outside, when she would call him into her office, it was the disappointment that killed him the most.

That’s what killed him now.

“No one can blame you for being upset or scared, Remus.” She rubbed his back, “It is a difficult time all over again and I know this is not how you planned your life out, but maybe this is your second chance.”

Remus just let himself be comforted like a child, a giant, 34 year old child that towered over the witch with her arms around him. “I’m afraid that if I go back, he’s not going to be there. That now he’s getting his mind back, we’re never going to finish all the things we started. All of the promises, the longing… I can’t lose him all over again, Minerva. I don’t think I can stand it.”

“You can stand it. You are strong and you have proven that time and time again.” She pulled away and straightened his shirt for him. “You are the man that walked into a colony of werewolves, immersed yourself in them unbeknownst to your friends and loved ones and fed the Order some of the most important secrets they learned. And you saved so many lives. There may have been no glory in it, but there are people forever grateful for that, even if they don’t know it. Pull yourself together. If not for yourself or Sirius, then for Harry.” 

He didn’t go back home that night. Or the next. He couldn’t face it. So he wandered, still in his robes from Thursday until he realized that he was actually standing back in Borth again. With a heavy heart, he pushed the door open, smelling of stale tobacco and too much whiskey. This time he didn’t call for Sirius, though. If he was here and wanted to see him, he would come. If not, Remus would sleep out here for the night and then figure it out from there.

Walking into the kitchen, the fireplace was still burning, so he had at least been back. He put the kettle on and sat down at the small wooden table. He didn’t even realize how tired he’d been, but he fell asleep before the water had even boiled. 

The light was peering in just a slit through the black out curtains and he woke up in bed, not at the table. Looking around, he didn’t understand what happened. Maybe he’d started sleepwalking. But then he heard creaking on the floorboards. Maybe a boggart had decided to rear his ugly head just to make his day that much better. 

Instead he was completely taken by surprise… by a smile. Sirius Black was standing in the threshold of the bedroom door with a tray. Remus had to try to remember what year it was.  _ Have I just woken up in bizarroland? _

“G’morning, Moony.” Sirius looked… so young. Maybe it was the few days away, but he had filled out some, his hair was well-kept, and his scraggly beard was now just very attractive stubble. He had groomed himself.

Remus was just in shock, “What in the bloody hell?”

Looking alarmed for a moment, Sirius panicked, looking behind him and then back at Remus with a bit of a pout, “I found you asleep at the kitchen table, so I brought you to bed. And then I decided to make breakfast.”

“You. You made… breakfast?”

Sirius set the tray down in front of him. It certainly wasn’t a full English, but who was he to turn down a fried egg on toast with.. a couple orange slices? And in an empty beer bottle he had picked one of the daisies from the neighbor’s garden and stuffed it in there along with tea.

“I don’t know what to say…”

“What? You don’t like it?” 

Remus laughed nervously, shaking his head. “I woke up and you were just gone… And then you didn’t come back and I left because I was too afraid that you weren’t going to.” He pushed the egg around with the fork for a minute before cutting himself a piece and trying some. He was thrown back fifteen years to when this was every-

“It’s Sunday.” Did he not realize that this hadn’t been a ritual for them in long enough that Remus had forgotten about it. “On Sundays I bring you breakfast in bed. Or do you suddenly have something against breakfast?”

He decided the conversation could wait until after he devoured the food, which didn’t take him long because he had hardly eaten anything that wasn’t distilled and in liquid form in days. Guinness counted as a meal, right? Either way, Sirius was a god in the kitchen as long as it didn’t involve patience. This is something he didn’t even know that he missed so much.

“Where did you go, Sirius?” He finally spoke again after he finished and Sirius cleared the tray from his lap, moving just a bit closer to him on the bed.

Sirius looked away, staring off at something in the rug. “I went to see where… What had become of  _ it _ .”

He didn’t have to explain where because Remus knew. But he wasn’t going to force conversation. 

“I’ve had a lot of thinking now that I’m able to actually process and remember correctly.” He fumbled with his fingernails, looking ashamed. “I made so many mistakes. I trusted someone who I should’ve known I couldn’t anymore and I pushed you away. I lied to you and the distance and cost us the world.”

“You’re putting too much blame on just you.” Remus pulled his knees up to his chest. “I was too wrapped up in finally feeling useful that I forgot to let anyone in. And it was a long time before I could.”

Sirius shook his head, “You were doing something not many people could even possibly imagine. You listened while some of our society’s worst individuals were deciding which families to attack and how. Remus, you prevented some heinous crimes.”

“And I wasn’t available enough in the last six months to show you that I wasn’t a fucking spy. I destroyed everything out of pride.”

Sirius laughed, moved the empty tray, and grabbed both of his hands, beckoning him to look up at him, “Remus John Lupin, I have never in our long, twisted history known you to have any faults due to  _ pride _ .”

“We went from being everything in the world to each other to going a week at a time without even a letter. You actually thought I was the one who was betraying James and Lily - I had been so awful that you thought -” And that’s when he broke down and for the first time in front of Sirius since he came back that he actually let himself break down. His frail body folded into what used to be the peak of male perfection.

“I will never forgive myself, Remus. Never.” He pulled him to his chest, running the tips of his fingers over the scars on Remus’ face and arms. “And my wrath cost twelve years of pain and agony for both of us. Because I couldn’t keep my head on straight when Dumbledore decided we couldn’t raise Harry.”

Remus cried harder, gripping his chest, his shirt, anything, “I was so lost. I didn’t know what to believe. I thought you were the secret keeper and I just couldn’t understand.”

For a long time, the held each other, apologizing back and forth until they were red in the face from crying. Eventually they both could breathe and Remus excused himself down to the kitchen for a cigarette.

“That’s a filthy habit, you know.”

“Last one, I promise.”

“Remus Lupin, you have had at least twenty ‘last ones’.”

Sirius followed him down the stairs, and as soon as he lit the cigarette, Sirius took it from him, letting it hang from his lips as he put Remus’ dirty dishes in the sink.

Remus rolled and lit another one, taking a few minutes to absorb the morning before gaining the courage to ask the question that had been bothering him since he’d found him here. “Sirius, what are we?”

A long, drawn out sigh came from Sirius as his back was to him. When he finally turned around, he let the ball of his hands rest on the countertop as he chewed on his lip. “I don’t know, Remus. I honestly don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, one more chapter after this and then LL&LF is finished! 
> 
> Please if you've read this, let me know! Kudos, Comments, and Reviews are golden. As always, feel free to find me on tumblr as many of you already have: jprongsx.


	7. Reasons To Forget the Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of Long Lost and Losing Focus. Finally they admit what they both already knew.

“THERE’S A LETTER FROM HARRY!” Sirius barged into the bathroom just as Remus was attempting to brush his teeth. Glaring at him through his reflection, he continued to brush while Sirius was about bouncing off the walls to hear from his godson.

Finally he spit the toothpaste out and rinsed his mouth, “We need to go for more walks or something. Merlin’s lost sock, Sirius.” He spit a few more times, feeling the man behind him fidgeting around impatiently. Sirius was inches from him as he turned around. “Well, if you’re not going to wait until we leave the bathroom, you could at least spare yourself the anticipation and just open it.”

“I want to know how he did  during the second task. He’s excelling in the tournament. I just wish I could be there to watch.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you forget he isn’t James sometimes.” Remus glanced toward him before wiping his face on a hand towel and then walking back toward the bedroom. Both of them were looking a lot better in recent months. Both had put a bit of weight on which did them well. Remus tightened the towel around his waist before opening the armoire. “He didn’t do this on a dare. It’s dangerous. Someone has a plan somewhere and it doesn’t smell of anything nice.”

He could feel Sirius’ eyes on him even though his back was to him. They still kept avoiding the ‘we’ conversations and it felt like sixth year all over again. Remus had fourteen years worth of new scars and he knew Sirius was itching to investigate each one, but he wasn’t comfortable with any of that at this time.

“I know who he is, Remus. But I can still be proud of his talent.”

“Absolutely. The boy is brilliant and just a natural at nearly everything he tries, but I’m still cautious.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” Sirius approached him, standing behind him, catching his eyes in the reflection off the mirror on the wardrobe door. “I’m afraid for him too, but in other ways, I know how strong he is. I believe in him.” And right on cue, his eyes fluttered to a nasty scar that went from just under his ear, across his back, and into the other shoulder blade. Sirius’ fingers traced the skin there, and Remus flinched, not used to soft touches, but he didn’t shy away. “You didn’t do this one to yourself.”

Remus turned to face him, “No, I didn’t.” He swallowed. More than anything, he just wanted to pull him close, but he knew that Sirius was still working on himself, slowly getting better. And Remus, himself, wasn’t entirely ready for everything that would come with that physicality after all these years, but his body surely didn’t care.

“Was that from the colony you went undercover in?”

“A lot of them are. I had to work my way up their ranks in order to be any kind of use.”

Sirius found another new one. He really wasn’t sure what was scar tissue and what was actual flesh anymore. Remus allowed him another minute to look, knowing that the opportunity didn’t present itself regularly where Remus stood in front of him with his chest bare. “And this.” He slid his thumb to a rather rough looking mark on his hip.

“That’s what happened when they found out I wasn’t one of them. It happened a few nights after you went away. I suspect that Peter tipped someone off to say I was part of the Order.” 

“Remus…”

“Don’t. It’s in the past.”

“Please, tell me?”

“If it weren’t for McGonagall noticing that I’d missed my check in, I may have died. I owe that woman my life, Sirius. The others tore me to bits and left me in rural Lincolnshire bleeding out.”

Sirius bit his lip in guilt and Remus was doing all he could not to lose his towel due to involuntary movement. “If I could take it back…”

“But you can’t. You’re here now, though. That’s what matters.”

Sirius reached out, brushing Remus’ cheek with the base of his thumb, “I never stopped thinking about you. I drove myself mad not knowing what was real and what was something I imagined. And I was so afraid that you thought I’d actually done it.

Remus leaned his face into Sirius’ hand, not losing his eyes for the life of him. Those grey eyes had always captivated him. “And not a day went by where I didn’t miss you. Where I didn’t want to take it all back and run home to you. I never stopped-”

“I never stopped either.” Remus could feel his breath now and he smoothed the sweater against Sirius’ chest, “When anyone would say… I would just ignore them. I spent twelve years not understanding and not knowing. But I couldn’t move on, I couldn’t let go.”

Sirius pushed his forehead into Remus’ and their noses brushed each other, “And I will forever be grateful that you didn’t, Remus Lupin.”

It was getting dangerously close to not being able to take things back. “Do you really want to do this?” He trembled with nerves under Sirius’ other hand lying flat against his chest. “It’s either all or nothing.”

And then Sirius leaned up the last bit and pressed his lips into Remus’. Every part of his body burned with a flame that he hadn’t felt in as long as he could remember. Neither of them missed a single beat, crashing their mouths together, Sirius snaking his tongue against Remus’ and Remus starting to pull the sweater over his head, breaking their touch for those few seconds was enough to get a breath and dive back into him. 

Sirius’ rough hands were exploring his back while their chests slammed together. Thirteen years of not having any connection with anyone gave them a need for each other that when they finally gave in, there would be no stopping it. He put his hands into Sirius’ hair, for the first time in months it wasn’t out of comfort or shampooing it. He grabbed a handful and jerked his head back to expose his neck, kissing from his jaw to his ear and then his neck, nipping as he went.

It was enough to set him off apparently because he pushed Remus backward onto the bed, standing over him for a second to just take in the visual before climbing ontop of him, kissing from the scar on his hip up to his chest and neck.

He lifted his chin up and forced Sirius to bring their lips together again before flipping him on his back and rolling onto him, catching that bottom lip exactly where he left off. Luckily Sirius was only wear pyjama bottoms and Remus pushed at the waist band, sliding them off of his thin hips. And with a new rugged beauty to replace his aristocratic former self, Remus wanted to devour him as he looked at him whole. 

Suddenly Sirius’ hands were pulling the towel off of him as well and there they were with nothing separating them, both men panting heavily. Remus laid back down on him, nipping at his bottom lip while his hand wandered farther down.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he breathed, moving down to ravish his neck. 

 

***

 

_ “So, in like… ten, maybe fifteen years, when this whole war is over, where do you think we’ll end up?” Sirius asked him, lying on his back with his head in Remus’ lap. _

_ “I could hope exactly like this.” He smiled, running a hand through Sirius’ hair before taking a drag of his cigarette. He was reading a tattered, old copy of Moliere’s  _ The Misanthrope _ , thick-rimmed reading glasses hanging onto the tip of his nose so he could see the tiny lettering across yellowed pages a few inches from his face. _

_ “But where though?” _

_ “Doesn’t matter to me. Anywhere.” _

_ “What about Brighton?” _

_ “Nah, not a fan of southerners.” _

_ “Sheffield?” _

_ “Merlin, no.” _

_ Sirius slapped the book out of his hand, “You can go teach miscreants at Hogwarts and I’ll smoke cigarettes and be your trophy wife.” _

_ Raising a brow, he scoffed and summoned the book back, “Now I’ve lost my page. Bloody jealous bastard. Merlin forbid I read for fifteen minutes.” _

_ “Try three hours.” _

_ He peered down at him, “Did I not give you enough attention?” _

_ “Nope.” Sirius yanked the book out of his hand and threw it into the kitchen, laughing and cowering a bit to avoid any retaliation. When none came he pulled off his glasses and shoved them on his own face. “Blimey, you’re blind as a damn bat.” _

_ Remus shook his head and knocked them off his face and onto the floor before taking two fingers and pulling Sirius’ face up to his, “It’s because all my eyes can focus on is you.” _

_ Sirius apparently didn’t appreciated his romanticism and instead just laughed at him. Naturally, he had to roll him off his lap and push him onto the couch - except Sirius grabbed Remus’ tie on the way down. _

 

***

 

“I can’t stay cooped up in here forever, Remus.” Sirius was peering out of the curtains. There was a color returned to his face now and he resembled the old photos that they had littered Grimmauld Place with since they’d moved in a few weeks earlier. 

Remus pulled on his trousers and buttoned up his shirt, deciding to humor him, “Where do you want to go?”

He looked over at him, lighting a cigarette. “Doesn’t matter to me. Anywhere but here.” A coy smiled played across his face and he returned to watching the people walking outside, unknowingly wandering into danger everyday. Remus knew he missed having control over his life.

Continuing to get dressed, he joined Sirius in people watching, kissing him for the secondhand smoke and then brushing his nose against his cheek.

“I’d say Brighton, but you hate Southerners.” The corners of his mouth were curling, but he didn’t look over to see if Remus was laughing yet. “And you said no to Sheffield because you hate the North. And you’re bored with London, and Birmingham doesn’t sit right with you. Shrewsbury is too plain, and -”

“Because I’m a miserable bastard.”

“Exactly. ‘cept now it’s me who’s bored of London.”

“Well, it’s a week until they start arriving in bunches.”

“Don’t remind me.” 

“Fine, I won’t. But you have a certain affinity for not wearing enough clothing for company. It‘s your own fault if you leave little to anyone’s imagination.” Remus stifled a laugh, flicking the waistband of his pants.

“I’m not that bad, not like I used to be.” Sirius caught Remus’ lips again. “But this house is all I can offer anyone anymore.” They were no longer chapped and frightened from years of solitude. Sirius was slowly, but surely, returning to the vibrant man that he used to be.

“You offer more than you know. And not just your ability to cook a perfect egg, which, you should reserve just for me. You know, just to avoid seducing anyone.”

“My eggs were not a seduction tool.”

“Rubbish.” Remus bit his lip and kissed him once before crossing the room to grab his reading glasses and find where Kreature had hidden the paper. 

“Those glasses are rubbish. If anything is a seduction tool, it’s those! You haven’t worn them in months and all of a sudden they have crept back into your routine.” Sirius narrowed his eyes at him.

Remus pushed them up the bridge of his nose, and winked. “I’ve needed a bit of help lately. All my eyes can focus on it you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, followed, and the like!


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